Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Promise of Sex
I know this topic has probably been blogged about ad nauseam, but I’m supposed to blog about what’s on my mind and, well, this is it.
I love a good build-up. We’ve gone over how good that can be in the movies, such as the Big Easy and Legends of the Fall. Yes the sex itself was amazing, but when you think about it, wasn’t it the build-up that got it to that point?
That first kiss. The first slide of a hand, masculine or feminine, over silky skin. The removal of clothes…
The ringing of the phone with an emergency that cannot be ignored.
There’s nothing hotter than making him wait for it until he feels like he’ll explode. Luckily, in our books, we get to explode right along with the characters. This “torture” is pretty freakin’ hot for the heroine, too, made even better by knowing she’s bringing the hero to his knees. Hopefully literally. Ah, the power of being a woman.
So why is this on my mind lately?
Ever tried to have a “date” with your significant other, only to have it put off again and again? Frustrating, but what a perfect opportunity to stoke the fire. A touch here, a feel there, a promise in your eye that when the opportunity finally plays out, it will be damn good.
Why should it be any different for our characters? It shouldn’t.
Time to go do some research. To keep you busy, here is an excerpt from Winters' Thaw that covers just a touch of what this blog is about. Enjoy!
“Okay,” Elizabeth said. “Now that that’s settled, let’s go back to your technique for picking up women in bars. What do you look for?”
He thought about it for a minute before answering. “Bar pickups are all about attraction and chemistry. The first part is easy. Let’s face it, we wouldn’t be standing here together if we didn’t both pass.”
He found her attractive! Who cares if she already knew that, hearing him say it was pretty darn sweet. “And the chemistry?”
“That remains to be seen.” The side of his index finger began to stroke her bare arm. “But I have a feeling it’ll rate pretty high.”
He wanted to kiss her. Holy cow! She realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed with any passion. The thought of doing it now, with this man, was both exciting and intimidating.
“Wanna find out?” Kevin leaned closer, looming over her by nearly half a foot.
His entire hand now stroked the skin on her upper arm and she felt surrounded by him, yet completely safe. God, he even smelled good! All earthy male with just a hint of sporty deodorant.
He waited there, hovering not six inches from her face, those green eyes staring straight into hers as he waited for some form of permission.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and slowly closed her eyes.
She expected him to move quickly, to take her mouth a bit roughly as set by the tone of the moment. He did neither. She was about to open her eyes to see what he was waiting for when she felt the first gentle brush of his mouth on hers. Then another. His lips were soft, sweet, hinting at the underlying taste of Kevin Springer.
Elizabeth wanted more.
She leaned forward at the next contact and sure enough he lingered, deepening the kiss, giving her more of what she craved but not nearly enough.
Why wasn’t he giving it his all?
Edie’s voice carried across the internet. C’mon girl, what do you need? A billboard invitation?
No but apparently he did. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer and slanted her mouth over his, swiping her tongue across his closed lips.
His body jolted and he finally kissed her as she craved, accepting her tongue to duel with his. When she retreated he followed with a groan, pressing her back against the wall.
Oh. My. God. This man knew how to kiss and she’d bet he knew what to do with his penis. No, his cock. Kevin Springer had a cock and she was going to get to know it up close and personal.
Just not standing in the hallway of a bar.
She flattened her palms on the warm leather covering his chest and gave a small push at solid muscle. He instantly backed up a step, breathing hard.
“Jesus.” He steadied himself with one arm against the wall behind her. “That was off the freakin’ chart. So, where have you been all my life, what’s your sign and can I take you home after the show tonight?”